


orgullosos de no ser como vosotros

by crystalcities



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Atlético Madrid, Crying, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22949782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcities/pseuds/crystalcities
Summary: The last European night at the Calderón.
Relationships: Koke/Saúl Ñíguez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	orgullosos de no ser como vosotros

_10th May, 2017._

Saúl was the last to walk off the pitch at the Calderón. He’s completely soaked in rain, shirtless because he’d given his shirt away to their equally soggy fans who stayed long after the final whistle. One of them jumped over the fence to embrace him.

They’d won the match but lost the tie. They came in to the second leg needing three goals to win. Saúl scored the first then Fernando won a penalty for Antoine to convert, all within the first fifteen minutes. 2-3. They thought they could do it. Then Benzema slipped away, Isco caught the rebound to score an away goal, and as hard as the _Rojiblancos_ tried, it was over. 2-4.

Saúl took one last look at the stands, still mostly-full, everybody in red and white singing in the rain, celebrating, and supporting their team. They’ve been at it the entire bittersweet evening, and he thought, _how could I ever not give them everything?_

* * *

As Saúl walked down the tunnel to the dressing room, he had a sick feeling that he’d done this before. Twice already, actually, and three times for some of them. The mood in the dressing room was weird. Some of the players, mostly the younger ones, were distraught. Others were celebrating. Antoine was nowhere to be found---he was probably with Cholo at his office. It was a potent mix of high emotions, and Saúl wasn’t quite sure what to do. He looked for Koke, but Gabi found him first, coming up to check on each new arrival.

“How are you doing?” Gabi said gently, squeezing Saúl on the shoulder.

“Gabi, I could have done better...”

“Hey. We played well tonight and we gave it to them. All of us. We won. I’m proud of of us,” Gabi didn’t let him finish. _How could Gabi be so confident?_

"Fifty-thousand fans," Gabi said, as if he could read his mind. This made Saúl completely lose it, and he cried. Gabi hugged him. Through tears, Saúl saw Koke over Gabi’s shoulders, on the other side of the dressing room, talking to Jan, who’d done so well for them. He looked every bit like the captain he was becoming, always a reliable presence, ready to give whatever the team needed, just like Gabi.

Antoine slipped into the dressing room and straight to the showers, eventually, and Cholo came in too a few minutes after. Cholo seemed happy, for some reason.

“Remember this night. This is a magical night. These are the nights we play for.”

* * *

Koke usually appreciated the space he had at his house, but tonight it felt too big. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep, still overcome with mixed emotions and buzzing with the energy of the Calderón. He took another shower, hoping it would calm his nerves down. When he was done there was a text on his phone:

_From: Saúl  
Can’t sleep. Come over?_

Saúl looked wrecked when he answered the door. “Kokinho,” he said, stepping into Koke’s space and hugging him hard. Koke walked them both over the threshold, kicking the door shut. He kissed Saúl’s hair, and cradled his face so he could take a good look at him. Saúl’s expression was open, his lashes dark and wet. “I know,” Koke said, his voice breaking a little. He had to keep it together in the dressing room, he was one of the most senior players after all. Now it’s just him and Saúl, and he felt the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes too.

“We’ve let them down. On the last night,” Saúl said quietly. 

Koke kissed his forehead, then his temples. He repeated Cholo’s words. “That’s not true. This is a magical night.” But he knew what Saúl meant.

“If we had done more at the Bernabéu,” Saúl continued, tears falling freely now. “This is the last European night.” Koke didn’t like to see Saúl like this, and he would give Saúl anything if it made him feel better. He kissed the points of Saúl’s cheekbones, the wetness on his cheeks, all over, Saúl leaning into the contact, and it would be natural to kiss his mouth too, but he hesitated. There’s a long pause. Saúl’s eyes were closed but he could surely feel Koke hovering right over his lips. The millimetres of space between them seemed electrified. Koke let out a shaky breath. “Can I-“ he started, “yes,” and he didn’t have to wait for Saúl’s whispered reply. The tension snapped and Saúl surged forwards to fit their mouths together. The kiss was wet and messy, both of them overwhelmed with need, for companionship, for consolation, anything from somebody who understood what they’d gone through because they were there too.

“Bedroom?” Saúl pulled Koke on top of him once they reached the bed. Koke kissed him again, urgently. Saúl wrapped a leg around Koke’s hips and slid his hands under his shirt, rubbing along his back firmly. Koke ground his hips into Saúl, both groaning softly at the contact.

“What if I didn’t miss the chance,” Saul suddenly said.

“Hmm?” Koke panted, lifting his head up from Saúl’s shoulder.

“What if I didn’t fluff the pass. From Gabi.”

“Saulito,” Koke said. Saúl looked at him like he wanted something. Koke felt like there was nothing he could possibly say that would be enough. They needed a third, fourth, fifth at that point. “It’s okay, Saulito.” Saúl met him in another kiss.

“I love the club,” Saúl murmured into Koke’s lips. “I know. Me too,” Koke replied in between kisses. He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. Saúl did the same, as best as he could anyways with Koke across his lap, and Koke helped him with the rest. Koke dropped down and reached into Saúl’s sweatpants, wrapping a hand around his half-hard cock, stroking firmly and making him moan. He silenced Saúl with a kiss while he rutted against the side of his hip to the same rhythm. Saúl squirmed, and tried to angle his hips up to give Koke more friction. They were too out of it, too uncoordinated to continue kissing, panting into each other’s sweat-slick skin. Saúl wrapped both arms around Koke’s shoulders, keeping him as close as he could. 

Koke latched his lips onto the soft skin where Saúl’s neck and shoulders meet when he came, kissing there hard enough to leave a bruise. Then time seemed to slow down for Koke, until Saúl whined in his ear, complaining about the lack of pace. He went back at it, stroking Saúl quickly and kissing him until Saúl came all over his hand. Then he rested his head on Saúl’s chest until both their heart rates slowed down.

“Thank you,” Saúl mumbled. Koke slid off him, the stickiness getting a bit too much. Saúl turned on his side to look at him. A few locks of hair fell onto his forehead, and Koke brushed them back gently. _The two of us_ , Saúl thought, _and all that we’ve been through. We fail, we try again... Doesn’t matter who or what’s against us. We’ll always have each other. We go our own way. Us against the world._

Saúl's feelings for Koke and for the club were all mixed up by now. It's a bit weird if he really thought about it. But he knew it was the same for Koke, and there was not many left who understood how they felt.

"I love you, Kokinho," Saúl said. He's never said these words to Koke before, but now it seemed as natural as- as telling him he loved the club before. Koke leaned over to kiss him softly. "I know. I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> 2017 was the last season Atlético played at the Vicente Calderón Stadium. Atlético lost 3-0 to Real Madrid at the Bernabéu in the first leg of the CL semifinals, with CR7 scoring a hat trick. In the return leg they came out strong and scored two goals in the first 15 minutes, but conceded an away goal and lost the tie on aggregate. Their supporters were crazy and reveled in the Atlético-ness of the whole situation. Cholo was 100% in his element.
> 
> Thank you to Cholo’s defensive masterclass against Liverpool for this one. It made me think about all of Atlético’s doomed CL campaigns. _:lolcry:_ I’m sure Liverpool is going to win the tie, but I hope Atlético give them hell at Anfield.


End file.
